«So I came to Royth, and far from being welcomed as a traitor to the Brotherhood, was cast in prison and only liberated by unexpected influences.» He would not have Larina's name dragged into this debate if he could avoid it; he owed her that much. «As I gained the freedom to move about, I saw that Indhios was planning to betray not only the Kingdom of Royth, but afterwards the Brotherhood, and rule over the ruins of both. He was a man to whom it came naturally to betray everyone in succession.» That, at least, was no lie. «So I set myself to defeat him, for the good of the Brotherhood, and did so. How, I am sure you all know.» There was still no thawing of the faces confronting him, but heads began to nod. The silence went on until the High Captain cleared his throat.

«Blahyd,» he said shortly. «You have proof of this?»

«I do.»

«Let it be brought before the Council, then.» He turned sharply on one sea-booted heel and strode away toward the aft cabin, the other Council members following him, all except Cayla, who glided like a prowling cat over to Blade and hissed in his ear (at least it sounded like a serpent's hissing to Blade's tight nerves), «Remember, Blade. I will denounce you if I once suspect you of telling a lie.»

Blade nodded. «I still serve the Brotherhood, Cayla. Why should I tell a lie? It seems to me that you have more to conceal. How many of the Captains will fight to restore the rule of the Serpent Priestesses, I ask you? Denounce me, and they will find out all you so freely told me.»

Cayla sprang back as though she had stepped barefoot on hot coals, and her face turned white and red and then white again with rage. Her lips tightened until they were bloodless; then she let out a long, whistling breath and nodded. Blade waited until she was out of earshot, then let his own breath out in a long sigh. He was gambling that Cayla was still so committed to her fantasies of reviving the Serpent Cult that a threat to reveal them in open Council would intimidate her. If he could keep her from stripping the «cover» off his-and Royth's-cover story, he felt he had at least a fighting chance of convincing the Brotherhood to follow the desired course.

It was indeed a «fighting» chance that the Council gave him, when they sat in the great cabin of the flagship to listen to his story in more detail. After three hours of presenting his own arguments and listening to the Council wrangle, Blade felt as wrung-out and sweat-soaked as he had felt after more than one battle.

He had spent only a few minutes of those three hours reviewing what had happened between his flight from Neral and Indhios' fall. Whether they held him innocent or not, the Council apparently had little interest in that part of his adventures. Indhios was dead; he could not be revived. «So,» as one elderly Captain put it, «we need to play with the cards Blahyd dealt us, whether we will or no.

What really kept the Council's attention centered on him was his story of the panic in Royth. No part of that story was a total lie. Everything happening in Royth over the past few weeks was, he knew, known to the pirates. It was simply a question of shading the truth, of revealing the actions but hiding the motives.

The royal navy of Royth-fled northwards, its commanders crying out that they were too weak to fight the pirates, too weak to do anything but hide themselves until the pirate fleet had departed. (Savage laughter around the Council table; words such as, «By the time we've departed, they'll have naught left to defend save the bare bones of the Kingdom!») Likewise, the royal army, scattering into garrisons in a frantic effort to defend every key place at once. (The pirates-and even more, the mercenary officers-didn't even bother to laugh at that. They only grinned fiercely.) High Royth in turmoil, stripped of its garrison, some citizens making desperate efforts to arm themselves, others clogging the roads inland in headlong flight, some simply cowering in their houses, hoping to escape notice when the pirates stormed over the walls. (More mocking grins.) The gold and precious stones from the royal treasury dispatched north, in a hastily assembled convoy of wagons

«How much of the treasury?» from the mercenary commander, and the Council looking at their hired man with sourness at his intervening in the discussion.

«I'm not absolutely sure. I heard reports of at least twenty million crowns, perhaps half again that much. It was a huge convoy-two or three miles of wagons, and a whole cavalry brigade riding escort.» Blade broke off and tried not to grin too openly in response to the lust for gold that he saw spreading across every face in the Council-except Cayla's.

«Mmmmmm,» said one of the Captains after a long silence. He sounded like a small boy just offered a lifetime supply of ice cream.

«I think-«began another Captain, paused, then went on quickly. «I think they are practically throwing their gold into our hands. And if we take all their gold. .» He seemed too stunned by the prospect to be able to finish his sentence.

«Yes,» said the High Captain. «If we can take all of Royth's gold at a single blow, it won't matter whether or not we defeat their fleet and army this time. They will be so crippled that we can return with an even larger force next year and finish them off.»

One of the oldest Captains, judging from his completely white hair and beard, began to bristle. «Are you suggesting that we hire even more mercenaries, bought soldiers not of the Brotherhood, rather than rely on our own strength? Where then is our victory-our honor-?»

«Where is your sense, Fenz?» snapped the High Captain. «Royth is our enemy, and it matters little how we smash them if smash them we do. Does anyone care to join Fenz in disputing that?» The High Captain's hand dropped toward his sword hilt. Fenz glared at the High Captain and fingered his dagger, and Blade saw others do the same. Again, he had to fight back a grin. Sowing dissent among the Council Captains was something he had hoped for but hardly expected-

Cayla's voice sliced through the building tension like a knife cutting fruit. «Why count our gold before we have it in our hands? Blahyd, do you know where this mighty convoy was going?»

«Not certainly. I stole a map that shows the general area where they were going to hide the gold, but many different cities are marked on it.»

«Where is that map?»

«Aboard my ship.»

An immediate flurry of orders as men were sent out to bring Blade's files from Charger and others to bring in wine and food. Blade, in spite of his taut nerves, found he was ravenously hungry, and in politeness the Council permitted him to eat with them. Eventually-perhaps three-quarters of an hour, although seeming to Blade like three-quarters of a day-both the meal and the perusal came to an end. The High Captain handed the map, now well splotched with gravy and wine stains, back to Blade. Then he rose, placed his hands on his Baldric of Office, and addressed the Council according to the traditional formula:

«Captains of the Council of the Brotherhood. I, High Captain, say unto you: let each say yea or nay that we shall sail north in search of the horded gold of the Kingdom of Royth. And as ye hope for the blessing of Druk and honor among your Brothers and the great glory of the Brotherhood, speak only your true mind, and when all have spoken abide by the decision of the greater part.» He began calling out the names of the Captains. There were twenty-five in all, and when all twenty-five had spoken out, the «decision of the greater part» stood nineteen to six in favor of going north.

Blade sagged into his chair at the release of tension. He had done his part in the plan, whatever happened to him now. And Cayla seemed to have some ideas on that score, the way she was looking at him. He was not surprised when her voice again cut in.